More Than Meets
by fluffily
Summary: Tsuki needs glasses. Roppi notices.


**I couldn't help writing this - just suddenly had some Roppi/Tsuki feels and had to get it all out down on paper. So we have a little (unnecessarily angsty?) two-shot about how Tsuki wound up with glasses. Okay. These two don't get enough love, anyway.**

* * *

"It's okay, Roppi-san," Tsuki says – barely above a whisper, and still it's the loudest he's spoken all day. His cheeks flush as the shorter man's name slips past his lips, and he tries not to fidget too much under the concentrated attention of his scarlet-eyed companion. The sun is shining, it's a day without obligations, and they need milk. Naturally, Tsuki has again managed to volunteer first.

"You'll get lost," Roppi decides, and his arms crossed on his chest mean business. "I'll go."

Tsuki's gaze immediately shifts to the floor of the apartment that Izaya-san first suggested they share. Force of habit brings one hand to rest on his lower lip; he hopes that Roppi hasn't noticed the shaking. "U-u-um, I really will be fine. I – I won't get lost."

Roppi studies the blonde for a moment before speaking. His voice is as monotonous as his facial expression, but he knows that Tsuki understands his feelings without the normal signals. "It's been getting worse."

It has. Tsuki has had a bad sense of direction for as long as Roppi has known him – longer, Shizuo once claimed – and it's gotten him in trouble time and time again. It's nothing that Roppi can't put up with, though, and Tsuki is physically as strong as Shizuo. The problem is, of course, that his personality couldn't be more different. He shies away not only from violence but also from interactions with other people. He's practically incapable of using his power against anyone – regardless of the situation – because he's like that, and that means that he may as well be totally defenseless.

And it's been getting worse. The blonde's been getting lost even in their own apartment, losing things left and right – even his scarf, the bright white not a meter away and Tsuki anxiously searching for it because _"it's Roppi-san's, the scarf Roppi-san gave me, I can't lose it, he'll be sad…"_

"It's close by," Tsuki reiterates, then, and he reaches for the doorknob. Roppi stops him gently, his fingers light and slender as they tug at the edge of the blonde's sleeve.

"Don't go," he insists. "You might run into a bad person." All humans, of course, are bad. They're mean and cold and they hurt without caring. They'd hurt Tsuki, too, if they could. If they felt like it.

But Tsuki doesn't like being told things like that. He says that there are good people, too, and he promises to protect Roppi from the ones that aren't. He says that those are a minority, and he believes it because he's a warm person. He's not like other humans.

"U-um, I'm sorry. Y-you should rest, Roppi-san. You were… um, you were up late, so…"

"I'm not tired."

Tsuki blinks and doesn't raise his gaze to meet Roppi's. "I'll call if anything happens," he says so quietly that the other almost doesn't hear him.

He always gets so flustered, Roppi thinks. It's strange, sure, but it's also sort of endearing. He means almost everything he says.

The dark-haired man has his doubts about this time, though. He knows that Tsuki's extreme tendency to get lost is abnormal enough as it is; it can't be getting worse unless something is directly causing it to do so. Now is as good a time as any, so he exhales an unspoken apology and steps just a bit closer. He places himself between the blonde and the door and forces Tsuki to look him in the eyes.

The taller man's cheeks redden just like that, all at once, and he stumbles back only after his white bag slides off of his shoulder and onto the floor beside him. "R-R-Roppi-san…?"

"Don't look away, Tsuki."

He doesn't, but he stays tense all over. He looks like he's torn between bursting into tears and fainting.

And, Roppi decides after a moment, his eyes aren't the way they should be, after all. They're hazy and unfocused, not un-expressive but definitely not the same. How has he failed to notice that before now? "Tsuki," he murmurs again. He doesn't mean to sound disappointed, but Tsuki hears what he can't help feeling all the same.

"Sorry," the blonde whispers. A little shiver runs through him, and his eyes sparkle with unshed tears. "Sorry."

"You can't go," Roppi insists again. "So I will."

"But, Roppi-san," Tsuki mourns as the tears finally spill over onto his still-red cheeks. "Roppi-san is scared of people. You shouldn't have to go out all by yourself."

Roppi smiles – a small one, and Tsuki reacts by reaching up to rub some of the warm saltwater away from his eyes. "Why don't we just go together?" he suggests. Too clumsy, both of them, to have solved the problem this way earlier, and maybe that's for the best. Because, Roppi decides, "We'll get you a pair of glasses, too, okay?" _That _problem may not be entirely fixable, but it's better at least than watching Tsuki keeping his troubles to himself.

Tsuki sniffles and nods. "I didn't mean to lie," he mumbles into the folds of his scarf. He hadn't thought of his failing vision as something worth bothering Roppi about, after all, and what if Roppi hated him for being an inconvenience?

"I know," Roppi acknowledges gently. "I'm not mad."

Tsuki smiles.

~~~~OoO~~~~

Almost two weeks and several trips to the optometrist later, Tsuki obtains a prescription and a warning that, even with glasses, he won't be legally permitted to drive. That in itself isn't a problem, of course, because driving could only have served as a faster means of getting lost, anyway. Still, it does mean that the blonde's vision really is unfixable. It's exceptionally bad no matter what, and the strongest glasses in the world can't completely correct it. Roppi knows that Tsuki counts it as a personal failure, which is why he makes an effort to accompany him to every appointment. As moral support, and a flustered Tsuki thanks him more than once for "bothering with someone like me."

The blonde fidgets more than usual on the way back from their last visit. Roppi finds himself following the blonde's gaze to stare at the pavement just ahead of them, and the entire walk home passes in an oppressive, uncomfortable sort of silence.

"Th-they don't look good on me, do they, R-Roppi-san?"

Those are the first words spoken by either of them, and it's only after the door swings shut with a loud clatter – loud enough to startle Tsuki into letting out a little squeak of bewilderment, and Roppi smiles again. The taller man doesn't even have to try to lighten the mood, sometimes.

His smile fades, though, in the instant that it takes him to realize that he has to properly respond to the blonde's query. He feels just like Tsuki, then, because he can't help lifting his hands to circle them about each other over his chest. He can feel his heart hammering away beneath them, and every part of him tingles as a blush rises to color his pale cheeks.

"I – I think," he stammers, "I think they're cute. I think Tsuki looks good with glasses."

He does. The frames are thin and they only line the bottom half of the each lens with metal. They shouldn't stand out too much, really, but they somehow manage to draw a considerable portion of Roppi's attention. To the blonde's face, to his long lashes and the way his eyes widen when he's embarrassed. (He's always embarrassed.)

"E-eh? Ah, um, thank you," the blonde manages, and his cheeks quickly darken to rival Roppi's. He shuffles his feet nervously before seeming to come out of his trance all at once – bursting past a startled Roppi and barely managing to avoid falling flat on his face, he's in their small kitchen and fumbling with pots and pans and all manner of ingredients. "I – I want to cook something to celebrate," he explains as his companion approaches him from behind.

_He called me cute_, he thinks. _Roppi-san said I'm cute. _That, coupled with the fact that Tsuki can finally see his companion's face clearly, is more than enough reason to celebrate.

The dark-haired man hums his bewildered agreement, then, and reaches out to steady the blonde's shaking hands.

"I'll help."


End file.
